Chair Time

Writers: Steel, Yvonne
Date Posted: 17th April 2026

Characters: A'yan, Donnise
Description: A’yan is sitting in Donnise’s chair. Or Donnise is sitting in A’yan’s chair.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 12 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: T’lonas, R'zen, O'rock

“... Hello.” A'yan greeted, blinked up at Donnise. “Ah. I'm sorry, were you going to sit here?” He added, belatedly, started to rise.

“Sure, but you can too.” Donnise plopped down beside him as if she were unaware of the concept of personal space. Their hips were wedged firmly together as she broke her meatroll in two and offered him half. “How’s Nhaliviath after yesterday’s drills? Zheverith was so _hungry_, it was like he hadn’t ever eaten before.”

A'yan turned red and opened his mouth to protest.

But Donnise was already there, practically on _top_ of him. All he could do was accept the half a meatroll offered, though he didn't eat it yet.

“... Nhaliviath is _always_ hungry.” he offered in response finally, turning the food over in his hands before putting it in a pouch to eat later. “It seems as if I am forever cutting meat to feed her, or washing and oiling her-- and of course, there is the marching and physical training.”

A pause, and he changed the subject. “How is your foot doing?”

She held up the foot in question, which was now wrapped in a sturdy boot. “Fine, now that the stitches are out. I think I’m going to get a wicked scar once it's done healing. Want to see?”

A’yan shook his head hurriedly. “No, no.” he assured hastily, winced at even the thought. “I’m… glad you are healing!” He was still red in the face a little bit.

“Thanks.” Donnise wilted a bit when A’yan refused to see her healing foot. Maybe she’d force him to look at it in the bathing pools later. She took a giant bite of meat roll and leaned back in the chair so they were comfortably wedged in, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m glad too, but it also means that T'lonas is nagging at me to run more. We’re dragon _riders_, not dragon _runners_.”

“... The Weyrlingmaster says I need to be stronger, too.” A'yan offered in commiserate sympathy, before he rallied, pulled his smile back on. “Ah, I'm sure it's all for a good reason.” He said cheerfully. “I should hope, at least. Maybe we are getting stronger-- even if we are not chasing it with R'zen's level of motivation.”

Donnise snorted. “If R’zen thinks he’s going to get assigned to Summit Wing when we graduate, he’s got another think coming. Or O’rock, for that matter. That spot is _mine_.”

“... You are _welcome_ to it.” A'yan assured her. “But surely it is too early to decide where we want to be? We haven't even _flown_ yet.” He paused, then added, “Of course, I will be satisfied with wherever they decide to place me.”

“Of course it’s not too early! You have to be strategic about impressing the right Wingleaders and making sure that you hone the skills that the Wing you want needs. And no Wingleader needs people who can run.” Donnise made a face. “But you really have no idea what Wing you want to go into? Seriously?!”

A'yan's expression cycled through several emotions at once, and he shifted a little bit, before settling on vaguely _embarrassed_. “All right, all right…” He offered, half laughing, half awkward. “If you think we need to pick, then… then I will pick.” He offered. “I… ah… _must_ you sit so close?”

She slung an arm around his shoulders. “Why? Don’t you like me?”

A'yan reddened visibly. “Isn't it… _improper_?” he tried, though faintly. “I… very well, if I _must_ pick, I want Areté Wing.” he blurted all at once. “I…. Of course I like you, I like all of my classmates!” He added hastily.

Except maybe R'zen.

“Aww, I like you too!” Donnise’s arm tightened around his neck in a headlock as she gave him an affectionate noogie. A lump formed in her throat as she suddenly, desperately missed her friends at Far Island Weyr. She released him and abruptly stood so that he wouldn’t see the way her eyes had gotten all misty. “I’m going to go see if they have any more meat rolls. Want me to bring you one?”

A'yan blinked, startled, and then shook his head. Then he changed his mind, and nodded. “... Yes. Thank you. I… I can save it for later.” He added. “... If I eat before I feed Nhaliviath, it's not pretty.” He added jokingly. “She's always hungry, it seems.”

“Dragonets always are. I can’t wait until Zheverith can hunt. I can’t wait until I can watch through his eyes _while_ he hunts!” she added gleefully. “Keep that seat warm for me, hey?”

Eugh…. He wanted to think about _that_, even less. But… at least it meant _he_ would be done cutting.

A'yan nodded. “Certainly!” He assured. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Last updated on the May 1st 2026

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Chair Time